


Together

by cazmalfoy



Category: Glee
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Blood, Dark!Kurt, Dark!Sebastian, Established Relationship, M/M, Murder, kurtbastian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 22:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7659256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cazmalfoy/pseuds/cazmalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Out from the night from the mist steps a figure. No one really knows his name for sure. Pray he never comes knocking at your door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for no other reason than it's not considered acceptable to kill real people in polite society.
> 
> **
> 
> The summary is taken from Genetic Repo Man from Repo Man the Rock Opera.

He had a love/hate relationship with rain. On one hand, he loved strolling through the park, huddled under an umbrella, hand in hand with his love. But on the other hand, the more practical side of him, it made his job significantly harder. 

Climbing fire escapes and making quick getaways was harder in the rain, for example.

Earlier in the day, when he had been considering his options, he had decided that entering through the kitchen window was the easiest and safest option. It was close enough to the fire escape that he could climb in with few problems, and crucially faced away from any of the surrounding buildings.

Somewhere in the distance, he could hear a clock striking midnight. His boots clattered softly on the rickety metal of the fire escape, even though he was treating as lightly as he would usually, but it couldn’t be helped. Many landlords didn’t keep up with the maintenance of such things, even though they were required to, so he had learnt to adapt. Be quiet and move as quickly as possible; be a shadow they couldn’t grasp hold of, had quickly become his mantra.

He frowned a little when he saw that the window was already open. It wasn’t much, barely two inches, but it was enough for alarm bells to start sounding in his head.

Pausing on the fire escape, he cocked his head, listening closely for sounds. Most people didn’t go to sleep with the kitchen window open. That was just asking for someone to break in, he thought. The irony of the statement making him snort with laughter.

No one was moving inside the apartment and the lights were off. Maybe the occupant had just forgotten to close it fully. Or maybe it was a trap and he was going to be grabbed the instant he set foot into the apartment. But he had a job to do. If he didn’t follow through with his orders, a trap was going to be the least of his problems.

His decision already made for him, he pushed the window open fully. After throwing one last glance around him, he climbed over the railing and slid through the open window. Years of dancing and exercise meant that getting into the building, even from such a distance away was as easy as breathing to him.

Inside the apartment, he slid the window closed behind him - no need to advertise his presence to everyone - and paused, waiting for the trap to be sprung.

Nothing happened and he allowed himself to breathe easier again for the first time since he’d discovered the open window.

Moving through the apartment, he knew that he would appear to blend in with the shadows around him. With his practically painted on black jeans, knee-high boots, sinfully tight black shirt and leather jacket, that had definitely been his intention.

Plus, he saw no reason why he couldn’t look good and do his job at the same time.

The apartment was silent as he moved through it. Not even his footsteps made a sound; thank goodness for carpeted floors.

As he got closer to his destination, adrenaline started to bubble in his stomach, making him grin. This was the reason why he had started doing this in the first place. The adrenaline. The thrill. The rush of blood lust that shot through him after every kill.

He had the best sex after a job.

Halfway down the corridor, he froze and tightened his grip on the blade in his hand. There was a light coming from the bedroom. It wasn’t bright, so he surmised it must be from a bedside lamp. But it still spelt trouble for him.

Lights usually meant that people were awake. Awake people meant witnesses, and that was one thing he prided himself on. He had never left witnesses; not once in the five years he had been honing this particular skill.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax his grip on the knife. Holding it too tightly would only result in him being injured as well, and he wasn’t about to leave blood behind.

That was the worst rookie mistake there was.

Swallowing around the lump of dread that had wound its way into his throat - since when did he get nervous? - he reached a gloved hand and pushed the door open an inch, before pausing again.

Still nothing coming from inside the room.

Feeling recklessly bold, he pushed the door open the rest of the way and stepped into the room.

As he did so, he mentally cursed himself. His gut instincts had been correct. There was someone else in the room, and it wasn’t so he had been sent there to kill.

Someone had beaten him to the target. Someone who was dressed almost identical to him, save for the knee high boots - they were kind of his signature. Even the jacket looked familiar.

He paused, tilting his head to the side as he bit his lip in thought. The other person in the room hadn’t noticed his arrival, so he was still standing with his back to the door. Which meant that he could see a small, silver etched design on the back of the leather jacket. Even in the dim light coming from the lamp, he knew he would recognise it anywhere. It was the same as the one on the back of his, and there was only one other person in the world who had that custom design.

“Sebastian?” he couldn’t help exclaim in surprise, the knife falling out of his hand and dropping to the floor.

The figure in front of him whirled around, eyes wide in surprise as he took in the fact that he was no longer the only one in the room. “Kurt?”

Gracefully bending down to grab the dropped weapon, Kurt took a step further into the room. Now that he was confident that he wasn’t going to be attacked, he felt safe to let his guard down a little.

“What are you doing here?” Kurt Hummel asked, sliding the knife into the holster strapped around his thigh. He grinned when he saw that Sebastian’s eyes had followed the movement and he absently licked his lips; the taller man always had liked when Kurt wore his holster.

“My job,” Sebastian Smythe answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, and Kurt realised he was right to assume as much. There was only one reason why Sebastian would be in the apartment, and the same as Kurt’s. He had a mission and was there to see it fulfilled.

It was one of the reasons why they were so perfectly matched. In their private, as well as professional, lives.

“Me too,” Kurt replied, scowling more to himself than Sebastian. “Why can’t they keep track of who they send on jobs?” he grumbled. “One of these days, we’re going to end up killing each other.”

Sebastian grinned and holstered his own weapon; a glock 9mm with a silencer attached. The other man was more of a shoot first, kind of guy. Kurt was the one who liked to get up close and personal with his kills.

“Didn’t they make a movie where that almost happens?” he asked, putting his hands on Kurt’s hips and pulling him closer.

Kurt hummed and slid his arms up to Sebastian’s shoulders. “I get to be Brad Pitt,” he purred, pressing a soft kiss against Sebastian’s lip.

Sebastian made a noise that sounded suspiciously like he was disagreeing in the back of his throat. “Babe, if you’re anyone, you’re Angelina Jolie.” Kurt’s brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to argue, the same way he did whenever someone suggested he was a woman. “You can pull bad-ass bitch off much better than I ever could,” Sebastian added, cutting off the argument he knew Kurt had been about to retort with.

“Nice save,” Kurt muttered, pressing another soft kiss to Sebastian’s lips to show he wasn’t really mad at him.

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, and Kurt pulled back a little and looked over Sebastian’s shoulder. On the bed, tied to the headboard was the victim they had both been sent there to kill. Her long blond hair was stuck to her face with sweat, and there was a piece of white cloth stuck in her mouth. She was looking at Kurt with fear in her expression and wide eyes.

The crucial thing he couldn’t ignore, however, was that she was alive. She should be dead by now.

Ignoring her, Kurt didn’t care about her after all, Kurt turned back to Sebastian. “You haven’t killed her?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

It was hard to tell because of the low light, but Kurt was sure that the other man’s cheeks had coloured adorably at his question. “I was about to when you came barging in here!” he argued defensively.

Kurt clucked his tongue. “Love, I don’t barge in anywhere,” he countered. “But since you hesitated, that means she’s mine now.” Sebastian pouted and Kurt couldn’t help kissing him softly, but he wasn’t going to change his mind.

She was his now. Sebastian would just have to deal.

Pulling his knife from the holster again, Kurt moved around the bed, coming closer to his target. He could tell the moment she realised that he wasn’t there to save her like she had initially thought. She immediately started struggling again, but Kurt knew it was fruitless. If there was one thing Sebastian was good at, it was keeping people bound if he wanted to.

Kurt could definitely attest to that.

Unlike movie villains, Kurt wasn’t one to stand over his victim monologuing. He had much better things to be doing with him time.

Namely Sebastian.

Using one knee to balance himself, Kurt leant over the blonde. With his left hand, he turned her head so she was facing away from him, and brought the knife up to her throat. Years of being bullied in high school had taught him that getting blood out of the clothes he wore was nearly impossible. He liked to think it was poetic justice that the bully who tormented him had been his first victim.

He watched with morbid fascination as blood gushed out from the neck wound, before he was roughly pulled to his feet by Sebastian.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Sebastian breathed, before pressing his lips firmly against Kurt’s.

Kurt groaned and allowed his mouth to be plundered by his lover. When he felt evidence of Sebastian’s arousal press against his own, he knew it was time to leave. Kurt wasn’t the only one who got turned on by killing.

“Let’s go home,” he breathed against Sebastian’s lips, before dragging the other assassin from the apartment.

It would be a few hours before anyone discovered the body - a housekeeper would be at the apartment just after dawn - but Kurt knew that they would be long gone by then.

When the alarm was raised, he planned to be buried deep inside the love of his life and on his second - maybe even third - orgasm of the night.

The job might not have gone the way either of them had thought it would, but they were going to end the day as they always did.

Together.

***


End file.
